Suicide In a Glass
by NicoleLoveH
Summary: Sherlock!Kinn- Finn Hudson, a man who just moved in with no other then Kurt Hummel, a consulting detective with a overly smart mind, must tag along with him to solve an investigation on how the new line of serial suicide's that all invole a bar happened.


**Title: **Suicide In A Bottle  
><strong>Author: <strong>NicoleLoveH and Rylee The Goob (She writes for Kurt)  
><strong>Rating: <strong>PG-13  
><strong>CharactersPairing: **Finn Hudson/Kurt Hummel  
><strong>Chapter: <strong>1/?  
><strong>Word Count: <strong>3,366  
><strong>Crossover: <strong>Glee and BBC's Sherlock  
><strong>Summary: <strong>Finn Hudson, a man who just moved in with no other then Kurt Hummel, a consulting detective with an overly smart mind, must tag along with him to solve an investigation on how the new line of serial suicide's that all invole a bar happened.

**Chapter One**

Finn Hudson walked up the small steps and knocked on the door that read 221B, he was a twenty-five year old who currently lived in a small dull flat with only a bed, a desk and a small dinky kitchen, and was looking for a better one who he could share with somebody.

The door suddenly opened and revealed an old woman with a light haircut and dressed in purple, Finn assumed that she was the landlady. She smiled kindly as she looked up at Finn's six foot three frame. ''Oh, hello there. How can I help you?'' She said, her voice light and sweet.

''Hi, um, I'm Finn Hudson? I called earlier asking if you had any open flats available?''

''Oh- Mr. Hudson, please do come in- I just put on a pot of tea and some biscuits are in the oven.'' The landlady replied with another smile, her british accent calming Finn instantly as he slowly made his way into the building, putting his body weight on the wooden cane that he was carrying. Finn was an ex-solider in Iraq, the same war that his father, Christopher, served and died in, and had to go on leave from an injury that he had gotten in the middle of a battle. He was shot in the leg, the bullet going right through the bone and breaking it, but sadly, it never grew back normally, leaving Finn with a limp that always annoyed him.

''Thank you,'' Finn said quietly, ''but I'm good, Mrs...''

''Hudson, Mr. Hudson.'' She informed with a small laugh, rushing to the oven to check on the honey biscuits that smelt up the room, making Finn's stomach rumble. ''But I'm sure that we aren't related- imagine if we were!''

Finn laughed softly, fixing the strap from his computer bag ''Yeah, that would be pretty weird.'' He looked around the kitchen for a few moments, but then looked at Mrs. Hudson, ''Um, so... Where is this flat?''

''Oh, right, your flat- I'm so sorry, Mr. Hudson, I almost forgot! You just seem like your such a cute and kind young man.'' She smiled as she began to make her way down the halls and up the staircase, Finn following, slowly making his way up, making sure he doesn't trip.

''Now mind you Mr. Hudson, the only flat owner who agreed on having a mate is a bit odd.''

Finn looked up at her, ''What do you mean?''

''I mean...'' Mrs. Hudson thought for a moment, ''It's hard to put words together, Mr. Hummel is a nice man, yes, very kind, but he kind of has an obsession.''

''An obsession? For what?''

''Solving crimes, almost every month the police storm in here and stomp up into his flat, telling them that they need his help solving the next line of suicides or murders or what not.'' She shook her head slightly, finally making her way to the third hallway, walking down it, Finn following her, faster this time.

''So... I'm going to be living with a detective?'' Finn replied as they stopped at one mahogany door which he believed was the door to this Hummel fellow.

''Well, yes, but he's not like any detective. He's very... Well, smart, and witty, but sometimes in a bad way. He seems to get a bit estactic when they're been a murder- God knows I wouldn't be. But he's a nice boy, always coming home with gifts for me whenever he has to go to the stores when I can't.'' She told him with a small smile as she rapped to the door, ''Mr. Hummel? Your new flatmate is here.''

''Just a minute!'' A high, soft, but it also had a pinch of roughness to it, voice called back, and only in the matter of seconds, the young man that was behind the door unlocked and opened it slightly, his head peeking out as he examined Finn intently before opening the door fully with a small smile, ''Ah, hello there.''

Finn looked at the boy, he looked like he was no older then nineteen- his face young and soft, his cheeks rosey red, his eyes as bright and clear as the ocean, his hair medium brown and neatly kept and his body lanky, but slender. He finally looked up at him and spoke up, ''O-oh, hey- I'm Finn Hudson.'' He said with a toothy smile, holding out a hand.

The man, who was dressed in a royal purple dress shirt and black jeans that were skin tight scanned Finn for a moment, but then took his hand softly in his and shook it lightly, ''Hello, Mr. Hudson, my name is Kurt Hummel, please, come in.'' He smiled again, Finn could instantly tell you that he loved that smile.

''Please, just call me Finn.'' The taller male informed as he slowly made his way into the room, the walls were painted a calm green and the furniture were all either colored black or tan, a black cat curled up in one of the free chairs and the desk next to it cluttered with papers.

Kurt looked over at Mrs. Hudson, ''Mrs. Hudson, could you bring up some biscuits and some coffee for us, please?'' He then looked at Finn, ''You like coffee, right?''

''What?'' Finn looked over at him, he was inspecting a skull that was perched on a shelf, ''Oh, yeah, coffee sounds good.'' He smiled.

Mrs. Hudson sighed. but smiled none of the less, ''I'm your landlady, not your housekeeper, Mr. Hummel. You must remember that.'' And with that, she made her way down the three flights of stairs and to the kicthen to fetch the crisp biscuits and brew some coffee.

''Nice place.'' Finn murmured as he looked around the room, his cane by his side.

''If it wasn't nice I wouldn't be residing here.'' Kurt smirked as he made his way over to a desk, picking up a folder and looking over it quickly before casually saying with looking up, ''Iraq?''

Finn looked up at him, ''What?''

''You have an obvious scared look in your eye that suggests you were previously a soldier and suffered a load of trauma, and a tan line on your wrists tells me that you were somewhere in a far different climate than New York, so it's either Afghanistan or Iraq, so I chose Iraq.''

Finn just stared at him as he tried to casually pull down his sleeves, ''Right... H-how did you know that so quickly? I, like, just came in.''

Kurt scoffed, '' Please. Your gate is one thing- straight and tall, obviously had to carry a gun around- and that cane suggests some sort of a leg injury and I _know_ my gun injuries. Your dialect- short, sweet and to the point, yet words are sometimes hard to find- obviously someone who was yelled at a lot, possibly be a sergeant. He really brought it down on you didn't he? Anyway, back to the eyes- calm yet nervous- and your hands- constantly shaking. Obvious signs of PTSD, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder if you didn't know, you constantly have terrible nightmares of being back out in the field again, usually ending with you being immensely injured or killed in some way.'' He then looked upon Finn, ''Am I correct?''

Finn just continued to stare at the younger looking boy, his mouth agape as he shifted a bit, taking the weight off his injured leg and putting it on his right, feeling a bit uncomfortable that Mr. Hummel could read him like a book after being here for only twenty minutes. ''U-uh, yeah, that's... That's right.''

Kurt smirked, ''My, I definitely was right. You certainly don't have a way with words.'' He then looked back down at the desk, searching through numerous case folders and papers. Finn was about to say something, but he just closed his mouth back up and made his way over to the desk, looking down at all the papers,

''What is all this stuff?'

''Old cases of mine- well, technically not mine, I'm only a consulting detective... But I could've sworn I've missed something... In fact I should be receiving a call soon from the NYPD. Detective Inspector Lestrade isn't the sharpest tool in the shed- he often comes to me for assistance.'' Kurt replied as he picked up a sheet of paper and scanned the words before dropping it back to the table with a small chuckle. ''Who am I kidding, I never miss anything.'' Laughs softly again before looking over at Finn, who is still standing quite awkwardly, ''You can sit down, you know. I mean, it is your flat too now. Plus, you shouldn't be putting so much weight on that leg. I mean, yes, you have the cane, but still, that doesn't help the fact you have a war injury and leaning on it awkwardly like that isn't helping it.''

The taller male just nodded slowly as he accepted the command and looked around for a seat, seeing one that was occupied by a big stack of books, and then seeing one with the cat curled up upon it, it's belly slowly rising and falling. With a small sigh he walked over to the chair with the mammal and sat on the edge of it, the cane laying against the arm of the chair as the cat suddenly mewed and got up with a stretch, suddenly climbing up onto Finn's lap and curling up one more, but purring this time. Finn smiled softly as he scooted back in the chair, lightly petting the cat as he then looked back up at Kurt, ''What's the cat's name?

''Frankly,'' Kurt started, ''I can't recall, that information is irrelevant and does not need to be stored in my head- and even if it was it would be pushed out eventually to be replaced with something that matters. But Mrs. Hudson calls him Socks because the moment he decided to strut in here he bounced into my sock drawer which for some odd reason was open.'' He glanced over at Finn and the cat, then back at the desk, ''Like I said, irrelevant.''

Finn just looked at from once again for a moment, but then back down at the cat so called Socks, ''Well, I like him.''

After that, silence coated the air for a few minutes, but Finn broke it by not helping himself but to ask, ''So... Like, how old are you? You look like you're only nineteen or something.''

''Twenty three in about two months actually. I look young for my age- I know. Curse and a blessing. Curse because I can barely buy wine and the people at the department don't take me seriously, blessing because it gets noticed by people like you.'' Kurt quickly replied with a smirk, beginning to organize his papers when his phone suddenly rang, making him take it out of his pocket and flip it open, '' Kurt Hummel'' He listened to the other line for a moment before groaning, You _really_ need to call me for _that_? It was the butler, obviously. Interview him, he'll crack under the pressure.'' He listened for a few more moments before sighing roughly, ''Call me when something worthy of my time comes up!'' He then closed the phone and stuffed it back in his pocket, ''Damn Lestrade- that was the simplest case in the book, he didn't need my help.''

Finn just nodded, figuring that he shouldn't ask what the phone call was about, but then he asked, ''Is... Is solving all these crimes hard? I mean, I imagine not, because you're you, but...''

''Obviously not. I mean, it would be a whole lot easier if the other detective's weren't so stupid, but no, if anything, it's quite fun.'' Kurt smiled at him and Finn nodded.

''How do you do it?''

''Do what?''

''What you do with your... Mind and stuff.'' Finn shifted in his seat, ''You seem like you know everything.''

Kurt shrugged, ''Just do. If you were half as smart as me you would be able to at least pick up a few things about a person just by the looks of them.''

''Wait, are you calling me stupid?'' Finn asked, his eyebrows knited together.

''No, I'm just stating a fact- I'm clearly smarter then you so of course I can figure you out like a Rubik's cube. You, on the other hand, are just like almost everybody else in this dull world, but I like you, don't worry.''

Finn just looked at him again. It was going to take a while to get use to him. He was about to ask something else, but Kurt's pocket rang again and Kurt groaned, shoulder slacking as he reached into his pocket and put the phone to his ear once again,

''What now?'' He listened in until the other line was finished talking, then raised an eyebrow, ''See, this is the time you call me.'' And with that, he hung up, slipped the phone back into his back pocket, then stared at the clock above the front door, ''Five... Four... Three... Two-'' The door suddenly opened and he watched as a broad shouldered man in a brown trenchcoat, a younger woman with long brunette hair wearing a long sleeved navy blue and white polka dotted dress, and a shorter man with gelled down dark hair wearing a button-down shirt and khakis stroll in. ''About time.''

''Hello, freak.'' The woman smirked as she folded her arms over her chest, glancing over at Finn for a second, '' Who's your friend?''

''Hello Rachel, that would be Finnegan, my new flatmate.'' Kurt informed as he then walked over to Detective Inspector David Lestrade, talking with him quickly. Socks mewed up at Finn again before jumping off his lap and trotting over into Kurt's bedroom to leave the scene. Finn watched this, but then he looked up at the girl, ''U-um, hello.'' He smiled kindly, but a bit nervously towards her, ''What is this all about?''

The boy with the gelled hair turned to look at Finn, ''Well, in the past month-

''Anderson, please don't say anything, you'll only confuse him more.'' Kurt sighed before sliding his hand into his pockets and looking at Finn, ''In the past month, there have been four suicides- two men and two women. Nothing has connected these four victims in any way aside from the bar they went to the previous night before they took their lives. Recently, a man has been found dead in his home, hung himself- what these three called me about a moment ago- and I suspected the butler. Surprisingly, I was wrong, because the butler was found three doors down, gun in one hand, bullet wound in his head. Now the question is, why on earth have these people killed themselves when, according to people close to them, they were going nowhere but up?

The grown man in the coat stared at Kurt for a moment, then sighed, ''Mr. Hummel is right. It's in these situations, he helps us find a reason.''

''Or in this case a murder.'' Kurt muttered,

''What?''

Kurt then looked up at Lestrade, ''Oh, I thought you would've found that out by now. These aren't normal suicides, these are obviously murder. ''

Mr. Anderson, first name Blaine, spoke up, ''But they've all killed themselves obviously. One jumped off a building, one poisoned herself-

''Anderson, _what_ have I told you about talking? It lowers the IQ of the entire street.'' Kurt sighed again and looked back at the man with the buzzcut and the thick body, ''Lestrade, It's serial suicide. Someone is making them want to kill themselves. Now the questions you should be asking are who, why, and _how_.'' He then clasped his hands together, drumming his fingers against each other as he began to pace, but he then glanced at Lestrade once again, ''I'll need to see the most recent bodies- have they been moved?''

''No- they're still in the mansion.''

Kurt smiled a little, ''Excellent.'' He walked over to his coat rack and grabbed his long dark double buttoned coat, slipping it on before looking over at Finn, who was still sitting down, ''Well, aren't you coming?

Finn looked up with him with a small noice of decsion before nodding slowly and getting up, watching as Kurt and the rest suddenly rush out of the flat to get to their cars. He groaned and tried his best to follow them as fast as he can down the stairs, ''Hey, wait up for me!'' But soon, he finally makes his way outside, his leg slightly aching as he just slowly strides over to Kurt, who had a annoyed look upon his face, ''I thought you would've figured out that I'm a bit slow on stairs.'' He smirked.

''Well, that's an issue, then.'' Kurt said before looking over at Lestrade, ''Give me the address, me and my assistant will take a cab to the mansion.

''Hang on a second, you aren't working with Anderson?'' Lestrade replied back with a slightly raised eyebrow.

''Oh _God_ no. Finnegan here'll get the jist of my job soon enough.'' Kurt then turned his head to Finn, ''Won't you?''

''It's just Finn, and u-uh, yeah, pretty sure...''

''Fantastic'' Kurt said as he took the card of paper that had the address scawled on it gratefully and watched as Lestrade, Rachel and Anderson left, soon starting after them to hail a cab, looking up at Finn as they step out onto the sidewall, ''You're comfortable with this, right? I mean, you don't have to come- I just assumed you had nothing better to do and you could be helpful.''

Finn looked up at him, he was nervous, yes, but at the same time, a feel of excitment was in his chest, ''Yeah, I mean, I wasn't expecting to go drive and see a dead person right away, but yeah, I'm pretty alright with this.'' He smiled softly, ''So, how exactly are we going to do this?''

''Simple. Well- simple for me. You'll see when we get there.'' He smirked as he then looked down the road and held up up his hand when he saw a yellow and black cab driving up their way, ''Taxi!''

The Taxi stopped at their feet and Finn and Kurt climbed into it, Kurt reading out the address on the card quickly before the driver nodded and began to drive them to the location. _What am I saying? _Finn thought, _I just moved into a flat with a guy who solves crimes like it's child's play. _He softly groaned to himself_. Now... This is what I should be blogging... But really, what am I getting myself into? _

**000**

**1.** Thanks so much for reading and I hope you liked it.

**2.** This is my first crossover and I had to rewrite it, because this is originally a Role Play me and Rylee did, so please be easy on me.

**3.** Comments and favorites are always appreciated. :D


End file.
